


Presidential Erection

by multibean



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Phil, Counselling, Fantasizing, Implied/Referenced Masturbation, Lingerie, M/M, Micropenis, One-Shot, Phil's POV, Smut, actually no I'm not lol, blow up doll, gross smut, this is so weird I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9939350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multibean/pseuds/multibean
Summary: Phil is hiding a naughty, shameful secret.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this may or may not be a joke, lmao. This fic will either:
> 
> a) Gross you out  
> b) Make you laugh   
> c) Make you think "WTF?!"  
> d) All of the above 
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

I had been stressing over my appointment for the majority of last night, leaving me with just four hours of sleep the next day.  
Despite falling asleep every now and then, it was a normal day. Nothing had changed. I finished editing the video I'd been working on with Dan, and then, after I'd had a bath and gotten dressed, I left the house and got into the taxi that I'd ordered.  
It was halfway through the journey that I started worrying. How on earth was I going to fess up to this? I knew it was confidential, but the thought of anyone except me knowing was daunting and made me physically cringe.  
Eventually, there I was, in front of Michelle's door. It took me a good thirty seconds to knock, but she answered right away, beaming at me. She was glad I was here.  
"You must be Philip Lester," she said warmly. "Come on in. Take a seat."  
I smiled at her as I sat down on my chair. She took out a book that looked kind of like a diary, scribbled a few words and then set it down.  
"So I've heard you've been facing some difficulties that you've struggled to share with anyone else."  
I nodded.  
"Please take your time," she said. "I'll do what I can to make you feel more at ease."  
"Oh, I'll be fine," I said, nearly stammering. "But thanks."  
I took a deep breath.  
"I'm, um..." She looked right at me, showing she cared. She was a good counsellor. "I'm..."  
I sighed.  
"I'm in love with Donald Trump."  
Her expression flickered slightly.  
"I can't help it anymore. Just the mention of his name. A photo, anything. I feel this... rush. I feel excited. No one else makes me feel this way and I yearn for the touch of Trump."  
She nodded slowly as I spoke. I opened up to her even more. I felt a twinge of anxiety when I realised I was going to have to get personal.  
"I just want to get intimate with Trump," I explained. "He's... he's my real senpai. I would give so much for sex with him. Anything... I would give anything to make love to Trump. Even now, here in this small office, I feel it again. I feel the warmth all around whenever I think of Trump. Whenever I mention Trump's name. Whenever I see a picture of him." I had to take a breath from talking so much. "All I need in life is The Donald."

 

Speaking to Michelle had been worrying, but she was so understanding and comforting that I was proud of myself for opening up to her.  
I fumbled around in my pocket for the four keys that were required to unlock all four door locks on my bedroom door. My room was completely private now, hidden away from my roommate, Dan Howell. And no wonder.  
"What _is_ it with all the locks, anyway?" Dan asked, poking his head around his bedroom door.  
"Nothing," I blurted out. "Honestly, it's only because I like peace and quiet. See you later." He gave me a confused look before retreating back to his room.  
I went straight over to my bed, taking off my shoes and kicking them onto my Donald Trump rug. It was just a rug of Donald Trump's face, there in front of my bed, which was covered in my Trump patterned bedsheets.  
I looked around. Most of my room was now ridden with Trump in some way or another. My lamp by my bed had Trump's face stretched and morphed horizontally around the lampshade, which did look disturbing, but it was my senpai so it didn't upset me in the least.  
I had Donald Trump stickers on my cabinets and wardrobe. I had Trump patterned pyjamas that read " **TRUMP TRASH #1** " in bold capitals on the back. I even had some furry yellow slippers that, rather than having bunny faces on the front, had the face of guess who on the front.  
I was considering buying some yellow wool or feathers that I could cello-tape vertically to the top of my lampshade, making it more of a lifelike Trump.  
I'd had a bit of a rough day, so I decided it was time to bring out the cardboard cutout.  
It was times like these when my quadruple locked door came in handy. I began to take off my clothes, feeling excited. Just before I began, I crawled up to the cardboard cutout and ran my hands down Trump's cheeks.  
"You're mine," I whispered.

 

It was absolutely everywhere, but the majority of it had landed on Trump's face.  
I had just finished my power wank, and I'd ejaculated right onto Donald Trump's face, the viscous semen slowly travelling down the cardboard cutout when I placed it at an angle.  
I whined and scratched at his gorgeous, plump body, desperately wishing it was the real Donald Trump here with me right now. I couldn't give a shit about the fact that people were saying he had a micropenis. Micropenis or not, it was enough to fuck me in the ass and make me orgasm, so it was good enough for me.  
I sobbed as I squeezed Donald Trump's fat chin. "Oh, baby," I whimpered. "Please, be mine."  
Then I had a marvellous idea.  
I had forgotten about the blow-up doll.  
Excitement and exhilaration soared through my veins as I rummaged beneath my bed before pulling out a squashed, deflated, inflatable Donald Trump doll. I pressed my mouth onto the plastic mouthpiece, blowing as hard and as fast as I could. The lack of oxygen was making me dizzy and I kept huffing and running out of breath, but I blew on, convincing myself I was sucking his little micropenis. This was all worth it. I simply couldn't wait.  
I heard Dan shouting from downstairs. "Phil!" he called. "I just put the news on, and Donald Trump's on TV!"  
"Tape it for me," I called back. "I'm busy now. I'll see him later."  
"But I thought you were really passionate about politics?"  
"I am," I spoke. "I'll watch him later." I sniggered to myself. Passionate about politics? Yeah, _sure._  
I didn't give a toss about politics. All I cared about was senpai.  
Finally, the doll was fully inflated. His tiny micropenis even came with a hardening feature; when touched, it filled with water from a small pocket inside the doll, simulating a boner.  
I glanced at the door, double checking it was all locked. Finally, I laid my senpai down on my bed and lined up his tiny cock with my ass and began to ride him, my breathing quickly becoming laboured.  
The truth was - and I hated to admit this - that I could hardly feel it. He was so tiny, hardly an inch in length, and he barely made it past my rear entrance, but that was fine. He was still so good. I began to moan as I squeezed his fat red cheeks and lowered myself onto his minuscule cock once again.

 

2 years from then, I would never have realised I'd finally have the chance to get intimate with the real Donald.  
Screw the counselling, the cardboard cutouts and dolls. I was meeting him. I was meeting The Donald. And I planned on taking it up the arse.  
My heart was pounding. My palms were sweating. And finally, the pink blossom curtains were raised, and The Donald slowly stepped out, his pink lingerie partially invisible inside his grotesque folds of fat. But _my,_ was he gorgeous.  
"It's you," I gasped, shaking a little. "It's really you."  
"I'm here, Phil," he said seductively, and when I looked at his face I noticed his shiny, sweaty nose and greasy hair. _Fuck_. He was hot as hell.  
"Will you take off your lacy panties for me, princess?" he asked, winking at me. He leapt onto the pink double bed, his fat body wobbling from the impact as his skin hit the mattress. The lacy thigh highs could hardly contain his bulging, cottage-cheese thighs and there was a nauseating smell in the room that resembled body odour.  
I slowly stripped off my white lacy bra and panties, revealing my huge, hard cock from beneath them. Donald raised his scraggly grey eyebrows. "What a size!"  
He proceeded to remove his, and I climbed onto the bed, thrilled to finally see his tiny micropenis. The odour got worse the nearer I was to him, but I didn't care.  
"Wow," I gasped, gazing in awe at his tiny cock.  
It was just how I'd always dreamed it to be - just over one inch and submerged in a filthy bush of tangled grey pubic hairs that contained a flake of dandruff here and there. He was hard already - it was bright red and wider than it was long, not to mention the smegma.  
"Give it to me," I pleaded, desperate to fulfill my lifelong dream.

 

All I could smell was sweat, old ham and dandruff.  
The stench wasn't exactly pleasant, I could admit that - but I was willing to endure it for my senpai.  
"Ahh," I moaned as he thrusted his tiny length into me. I could barely feel a thing but somehow it just felt so damn good.  
I could hear his thighs and ass cheeks clapping together as he fucked me, the cellulite inside his blotchy skin bouncing off of my body aswell as his own. His sweaty hands gripped my waist and I could hear his wobbly stomach slapping against my ass as he thrusted into me.  
"Turn over, baby," he commanded, and I got onto my back, my legs over his shoulders. He penetrated me again then, and leant forward, kissing me, his slimy tongue intertwined with mine. Close up, he smelled and tasted of wet dog, bologna and raw, pure body odour, but it was just so good. I never wanted to stop. His greasy hair brushed past my cheek and I felt his crusty, peeling skin against mine as he fucked me.  
Finally he came all over my stomach as well as partially inside me. His cum had a yellow tint and was very thick and chunky, which had me convinced he had some sort of infection. It smelled foul, but I scooped it up and swallowed anyway, doing my best not to taste this repulsive substance he'd produced.  
He did a mini belly flop onto me and his crushing weight produced a disturbing noise as it hit my body. I was in heaven. I'd been fucked by The Donald, my dream boy. It was no longer a secret. I didn't care if Dan, Michelle, my family or anyone else knew. It was all over now.  
He continued cuddling me and fondling me, and I realised that this was where I wanted to remain for the rest of my life - in Trump's arms, being fucked, sucked and chucked onto the bed, on top of Trump's podgy body.  
I was here. I was home. I'd finally reached The Donald.


End file.
